dew

when i woke up, i had the urge
to go outside
to flirt with early light
and to see if any others gathered
having risen just like me
only a bit earlier
how fortunate for one of them
to be the first to wake
and privy to more of morning’s secrets
the darkened dawn confiding in
anyone who will listen
i stepped around those still snoozing
snoring, mouth agape
and lost in slept-in slumber
i crept to the open doorway
found sitting there a few friends
their thoughts still tangled in
half-past dreams
and looking for an exit
like me
finding it in
the crooked yawning smiles
the snorts, sniffles and giggles
the hair as goofy-looking
as untended gardens
and then from the kitchen:
the scent of iced cinnamon rolls
and the smell of cooking eggs 
butter smoking in white steam
from a stove-top flame licking its lips 
on the underside of a cast-iron pan 
as our emboldened, waking sunrise
turns the dainty sky blue and eggshell 
and delicate
before calling home
the cold morning dew